Called Up

What you see here are two little monkeys snuggling in “the big bed”. It’s a special treat on a Tuesday night, when Daddy is out playing hockey, to climb into our bed and watch a show. They fight over Dora and Backyardigans but settle in quickly with their snack and drink. 
This was two days ago. A lot has changed since then.
Findley made it through an entire dentist appointment, including x-rays, with his second loose tooth dangling by a thread. That little tooth was no match for a peanut butter sandwich. By the time he realized the tooth was missing, he’d eaten half his sandwich and swallowed the tooth along with it. The panic in his eyes was quickly followed by tears. If he had nothing to trade with the Tooth Fairy, would she still come? The idea of leaving her a letter calmed him a bit and before bed, he crafted a little note and slipped it under his pillow. I hope she’s an understanding fairy.
The biggest news of all came home with Daddy on Wednesday night.The select hockey team is in need of players and they have their sights set on our little Ovechkin – he’s been invited to their practice this Friday. He has become quite aggressive and persistent on the ice and his hard work is paying off. I guess Dean’s declaration, before Finn was born, that his kids would be restricted to house league was based on either:
A. the rare possibility that the kids would not be interested in playing hockey, 
or 
B. the kids would inherit my sports gene and not be very good players. 
Now, the sky’s the limit and there is nowhere the boys won’t travel for a game. As proud and happy as I am for him, I see a long road paved with my hard earned dollars stretching out ahead of me. And the only exit ramps lead to cold damp arenas. Time to buckle up.

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